Page 71 of At First Smile
Pen’s not a small woman compared to others. She’s tall with long legs, plump breasts, and a round ass, but in my arms she’s delicate. Her frame, which tucks so perfectly into me, appears small against my large muscular one.
Smirking, she hands me the bowl. “Heat this for thirty seconds.”
“Yes ma’am.” I place a lite kiss on the corner of her mouth and move to the microwave.
“So, Finn writes romance? I don’t think I’ve read many male romance writers. Does he write under Finn Iverson?”
“He publishes under F.M. Iverson.” Forehead scrunched, my fingers brush against raised clear bumps atop the microwave buttons. “What are these?” I turn to find a slack-jawed Pen.
“They’re bump dots, so I know which buttons are which by touch.”
With a nod, I close my eyes and run my fingers over the raised keypad, punching in thirty seconds.
Snapping her fingers, she drags my attention back to her. “Focus,yourbrother is the author of theAmerican Heiressseries?” She gestures furiously with an ice cream scooper.
“You’ve read them?”
“Read them?! The besties and I are obsessed.”
Face bright with excitement, she goes on about her favorite books in my brother’s now five –or is it six?– part series about early-Twentieth Century socialites and the working-class men who love them. As Pen and I work together to makethe brownie sundae, she jumps from book-to-book like a frog leaping between lily pads. Her smile is wide. Her eyes sparkle. Her hands are in constant motion.
“You know I have an advance copy of Finn’s latest book.” Chuckling, I scoop up a bite of ice cream-smothered brownie from our shared bowl.
Her spoon stops midway to her mouth. “Cassandra and Zachery’s story? If you send that to Trina, you may win her over.”
The high-back stools that line the front of the kitchen island allow me to sit extra close to Pen, while sharing our dessert. I’m fighting the urge to pull her onto my lap and feed her like the goddamn caveman I am. Though an even more primal part of me wants to shove the bowl between us aside, lay her on the counter, and claim and mark every inch of her. The way she’s marked every part of me.
Instead, I nudge her knee with mine. “I’d rather use it to entice you away from GB.”
“Never! What GB and I have is epic.” She flashes a grin at the sleeping dog before turning back to me. “Seriously, though, that’s sweet, but I assume it’s not an advance audiobook copy.”
I rub the back of my neck. “I should have thought. Sorry.”
Her bare foot taps my calf. “It’s okay. Most people don’t think of it.”
“I don’t want to be like most people when it comes to you.” Cradling her face, I sweep my thumb across her jawline.
Her breath catches. “You’re not.”
“I can ask Finn for an audiobook copy or, if he doesn’t have one, get it from Wes.”
“Wes? Your unwanted bestie?”
“He does audiobook narration on top of the acting and bartending. He’s done all my brother’s books. That’s how he ended up working at Axel’s. Finn recommended him.” My nosewrinkles. “I suspect Finn did it as a prank, knowing how much Wes would drive me—” I stop speaking, taking in Pen’s wide eyes.
“Your brother is F.M. Iversonandyour best friend is Wesley Williamson?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh my god!” she squeals. “Trina and JoJo will die. We love his narrations.”
I grin. “Well, perhaps you’ll let me take you to Axel’s Friday night for dinner. I can show you the pub and introduce you to Wes.”
“Why, Mr. Iverson are you asking me on another date before we’ve finished this one?” She picks up her spoon.
“Luv, I’d fill up your calendar if you’d let me.” The words sprint from my lips before I can think better of it. This isn’t slow. I promised we’d go slow. But when her enticing candied scent envelops me and those honey eyes peer back at me, I lose all notion of proper.
“I’m supposed to do happy hour with JoJo Friday night.” She worries her lower lip. “But I could reschedule?—”
